


You Can Imagine The Christmas Dinners

by MizJoely



Series: You Can Imagine The Christmas Dinners [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, RomCom AU, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24084382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: Sherlock and Molly have arrived at his parents' home, firmly committed to pretending their fake marriage is real. But will Mycroft and Eurus give the game away? Stay tuned and see in this conclusion to my Christmas Dinners series.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Series: You Can Imagine The Christmas Dinners [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673344
Comments: 33
Kudos: 141





	1. Mum and Dad

Molly and Sherlock stood side-by-side on the front steps of his parent's beautiful little cottage, Sherlock's hand raised and finger poised to ring the bell. Molly put on her best smile and waited for him to press it.

And waited. And waited.

She looked over at him impatiently. The git was frowning at the doorbell as if it had done him some personal affront. Good lord, it was just his parent's house, whom he'd assured her multiple times were 'perfectly, boringly ordinary'. So why on earth go into 'buffering mode' - or was he panicking? Changing his mind? If she'd gone through all that quizzing and fake-life-inventing just for him to lose his nerve at the last second…

 _No,_ she decided mulishly. This was all his fault and he was damned well going to go through with it. _In for a penny, in for a pound._

With a huff of annoyance, she reached up and bumped his hand so that his finger landed on the buzzer. He gave her a _look_ , which she returned in spades, and if not for the sound of footsteps alerting them, they might still have been glowering at one another when the door opened.

Fortunately ( _because who wants to meet one's supposed in-laws for the first time while also having a bit of a domestic with one's fake husband?_ ) they both heard the footsteps and both had plastered wide smiles on their faces by the time the door opened.

"Sherlock!" Standing in the doorway was a beaming older couple who could be no one but Sherlock's parents. "You made it, and oh, you've brought your wife, how wonderful! So happy to finally meet you, my dear!" his mother - Violet, Molly reminded herself - exclaimed before engulfing them both in a gardenia-scented hug.

Molly didn't even try to get a word in edgewise, which was just as well as Sherlock's mother continued speaking the entire time they were being ushered into the house and out of their coats. Mr. Holmes remained silent, smiling happily as his wife nattered on about the weather, obediently accepting the packages his wife thrust into his arms after snatching them from Molly's arms and fussing at her son for making his wife carry them from the car.

"Now whose car is that anyway?" she asked before brushing aside any response Sherlock might have been about to make with a brusque, "Never mind, not important, and I've no desire to know if you 'borrowed' it from Mykie like you did last time."

At that revelation Molly raised an eyebrow at her erstwhile spouse, who responded with only a shrug and a self-satisfied smirk that spoke volumes.

The mention of Sherlock's elder brother, however, did remind her that she'd never clarified whether or not Sherlock's siblings knew she was coming - or indeed, whether they even knew Sherlock had found a convenient wife that met their descriptions so perfectly, at least as far as forensic and petite and (she flattered herself to believe) very forgiving and intelligent (and paragon of virtue, mustn't forget that little gem!) were concerned.

Fortunately for her, Mrs. Holmes' continued family chattering kept her too occupied to even consider panicking over the question of whether or not Sherlock's brother and sister would immediately denounce them as a fake couple. And hell, even if they did? Then that would get them into almost as much hot water with their mother as it would Sherlock, and frankly it would be well deserved as far as Molly was concerned.

Whether they went along with it or not, she decided as she and Sherlock were escorted into the front parlour, she was determined to enjoy the fallout and make any apologies necessary after the fact.

To Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, that is. NOT to a single one of their children, up to and including Sherlock.

On that, Molly intended to stand quite firm.

"Mycroft and Eurus will be so pleased to see you," Mrs. Holmes was saying as she settled Molly and Sherlock onto a beautifully plush loveseat in front of the fire. "I didn't tell them you were both coming this year." Well, there was one question answered! She gave Sherlock a remonstrating look. "Of course, how could I when Sherlock didn't confirm it until just this morning? Honestly, you'd think he'd been raised by wolves, his manners-! But all's well that ends well, isn't that right, dear?"

This last was, apparently, addressed to Sherlock's father, who had taken up a seat across from them in a well-worn armchair that practically screamed 'Dad's Favourite'. "Yes, quite right, too," he agreed. "Always welcome here, son, and your lovely bride. Molly, we've been looking forward to meeting you. Goodness, the stories Eurus and Mycroft have told!" He chuckled, and Molly joined in nervously.

 _Right,_ she told herself bracingly. _Time for The Act. The whole reason for your being here._

_Time to be Mrs. Sherlock Holmes, God help me._

"Mr. Holmes, Mrs. Holmes, thank you for letting me come at such short notice," Molly said, mentally ticking off yet another reason to be pissed off at Sherlock. Not that _that_ particular list needed adding to! But how dare he not tell his parents they were definitely coming - and even worse, how dare he not tell _her_ that he hadn't told them!

"Please, you must call us Violet and Siger," Mrs. Holmes - Violet - interjected warmly. "We're absolutely thrilled to finally meet you, Molly - and to know your name," she added, giving her son another reproachful glance. "Sherlock insisted on only calling you 'Mrs. Holmes' or 'my darling wife' even when we asked him point blank what your name was, and Mycroft and Eurus followed suit." She tsked disapprovingly. "I swear the three of them made a game of it. But here we all are, we've finally met, and that's just lovely!"

"And I'm so glad to finally meet you!" Molly gave Sherlock an equally reproachful look, secretly starting to sort of enjoy herself. Not that she'd tell Sherlock that, of course. "My Sherl and I have tried for ages to come out to see you but his work keeps him so busy in London and out of the country, we just never could coordinate!" She altered her expression to one of sappy adoration. "And, well, I was just selfish, wanting to keep him to myself for as long as I could." She tittered nervously, although this time it was as much put-on as real. At least, she thought it was. "Forgive me?"

“Oh, pish, there’s nothing to forgive,” Mrs. Holmes assured her. “None of my children are exactly what you’d call conventional, and why should any of their significant others be, either?” She frowned. “Not that Mykie or Euri have significant others at the moment.” She frowned again. “And her with that dating site. I say, what’s the good of running a multi-million dollar corporation like that if you can’t even find someone for yourself?”

"To be fair, Eurus' standards are incredibly high," Sherlock offered. "No one in their right mind could possibly meet them - and I doubt you'd want her bringing home someone _not_ in their right mind. Like, say, her ex-husband?" He put on what Molly recognized as a fake pondering expression. "He _is_ her ex-husband, right? Or has my darling baby sister still not got around to having the divorce papers drawn up?

Violet gave him a _very_ black look. "Let's leave Jimmy Moriarty out of it, shall we?" she snapped, then gave Molly an apologetic smile. "Sorry, my dear, it's just that he's never been what I would call a good influence on our Euri."

"Or she on him," Sherlock muttered. This time Molly's mental reminder was filed under "Things to Interrogate Sherlock About Later" since she definitely wanted to hear THAT story.

In fact, she was looking forward to hearing more about both Sherlock's siblings, something beyond 'snotty know-it-all' and 'annoying tag-along'. At least she'd know them on sight, thanks to the pitiably few photographs he'd shared with her on his mobile.

The sound of the front door opening interrupted her musings, and she realized with a rush of mingled dread and excitement that it was -

"Showtime!" Sherlock exclaimed, rubbing his hands together gleefully.


	2. Awkward Family 'Reunion', Anyone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously..._
> 
> _The sound of a door opening - not to mention being slammed against a wall - interrupted her musings, and she realized with a rush of mingled dread and excitement that it was -_
> 
> _"Showtime!" Sherlock exclaimed, rubbing his hands together gleefully._

His mother looked at him askance - as did Molly - but he paid them absolutely no mind, too eager to see just how much of a surprise their presence would be. What sort of story had his older brother and younger sister cooked up for his (incorrectly anticipated) absence this time? He had to admire their ingenuity, especially after having taken shameless advantage of it over the past year, but the desire to catch them both flatfooted easily outweighed any gratitude he might be expected to owe them.

"Whose car is that out front?" He could just make out Mycroft's querulous demand while his mother fussed over the tea and his father regaled Molly with some deadly boring story from his childhood. "They didn't say anyone else was joining us this year." Sherlock grinned as Mycrof let out a very distinct groan. "Oh God, please tell me it's not Aunt Edna and that inbred brood of hers!"

His voice was getting louder as he and - yes, those were definitely Eurus' overpriced heels clacking on the hardwood floor - his sister approached the sitting room.

"Don't be so dramatic, Mykie, Aunt Edna would never waste her money on a Jag," came Eurus' response.

"Then who?" Mycroft was definitely getting closer; his mother finally seemed to notice but before she could call out to them Sherlock shook his head at her, mouthing, "Don't spoil the surprise!" to her.

She shook her head right back at him, but said nothing more than, "Sugar, dear?" to Molly as she poured her tea.

"Well it's not Sherlock," Eurus said, clearly not bothering to lower her voice as she and Mycroft approached the sitting room. "The git usually 'borrows' one of yours or rents some awful heap of rust."

Sherlock couldn't hold back a delighted grin as he casually dropped an arm over Molly's shoulders. He'd purposefully rented a Jag this time round, just to further throw his siblings off the scent.

Speaking of whom...with exquisite timing (if he did say so himself), Sherlock turned to Molly, tilting her head up and giving her the sappiest, most doting smile that he could. "Merry Christmas, darling," he said, giving her no further warning than that as he leaned down and kissed her.

Just as Mykie and Eurus reached the sitting room door.

He realized the flaw in his plan only after he'd (very reluctantly) ended the kiss, one that left both him and his erstwhile bride breathless and, dare he say something so mawkish? Yes, he damned well dared - left them both breathless and starry-eyed.

Too starry-eyed to be able to fully appreciate the delightful sight of Mycroft stopping abruptly in the door to gape at them, and Eurus, for once not entirely cognizant of ever single facet of her surroundings, ploughing straight into his back and nearly knocking him - and herself - to the floor.

"Mycroft!" she yelped, staggering about on her Louboutins and catching at the door frame. "What the bloo...dy...hell..."

"Hey sis, hey bro!" Sherlock said brightly, savouring his triumph even as he damned himself for not thinking to set up his phone to record this glorious moment (and still reeling a bit from the even more glorious kiss he'd just shared with Molly). "Surprise! We made it this time!"

**oOo**

Reeling a bit from that unexpected kiss herself, Molly nevertheless managed to pull herself together enough to follow Sherlock's lead. "Hi!" she chirped as the other Holmes siblings continued to stare at her and Sherlock with rather shell-shocked expressions on their faces. "We wanted to surprise you, and, well, I guess we did!" She giggled and rose to her feet, Sherlock moving automatically to stand next to her. "But honestly, you shouldn't be so surprised! You knew eventually Sherlock would bring me here to meet everyone, and what better day than Christmas?"

"Sorry we didn't tell you we were coming," Sherlock chimed in, "but my little Mollywobbles -" _oh, so_ that _was how he was going to get back at her for the 'Sherl' thing!_ \- "wanted it to be a surprise. So, surprise!" And he hugged her close to his side, beaming broadly at his siblings.

Who continued to gape at them.

Sherlock had, after extracting extravagant promises on her part never to share the information with _any_ one (priests, therapists and best friends included), admitted to Molly that Mycroft and Eurus might actually, possibly, be a teensy bit smarter than him. So the fact that he'd caught them flat-footed like this clearly was a moment of triumph he'd forever savor.

And to be honest? So would she.

If, of course, they didn't immediately give it away and accuse Sherlock of doing exactly what he was doing: pretending to be married to someone he wasn't.

"Uh, yes, of course, that is -" Clearing his throat, Mycroft straightened himself up to his full height (goodness, he seemed to be about an inch taller than Sherlock!) and pasted a tight-lipped smile to his lips. "How wonderful to see you both. Here. For Christmas." He finally entered the room, moving almost robotically over to his mother's side. Bending down, he pressed a kiss to her cheek before straightening back up and turning his gaze to his sister. "Isn't it wonderful, Eurus? That Sherlock and his, er, lovely wife could join us this time?"

"Uh, yes, wonderful," she stuttered out, staring at the pair of them wide-eyed, blinking rapidly as if still trying to process the sight before her. "Sherlock and his wife. Here. With Mum and Dad."

"It was such a lovely surprise," Violet said with a smile as she reached out to her daughter, who stumbled forward a bit before leaning down to exchange hugs and kisses with her mother. "Your father and I were ever so pleased that we could finally meet this wonderful woman who stole your brother's heart." With a twinkle in her eye she added, "Honestly, we were beginning to wonder if she was just someone the three of you had invented just to tease us!"

Molly's grin went a bit strained, but Sherlock laughed - Mycroft and Eurus both joining in a bit weakly - and his dad went to greet the newcomers and then for a while it was all catching up and drinking tea and eating (delicious, definitely homemade) biscuits and being delightfully normal.

Which lasted right up until Violet and Siger bustled off to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on Christmas dinner.

As soon as they left the room Eurus and Mycroft rounded on their brother, now lounging comfortably on the sofa with a very nervous Molly by his side. She was extremely conscious of both his arm stretched along the back of the sofa behind her, and the identical scowls on the faces of her fake husband's very real - and very irate - siblings.

"All right, Sherlock, spill," Eurus demanded. "What the hell are you up to?"

He gazed up at them, the very picture of innocence. "What am I up to? Why, nothing except enjoying Christmas dinner with my family. Introducing my wife to my parents. It's what one does, isn't it?"

"It's what one does when one has a real wife, yes," Mycroft snapped, arms folded stiffly across his chest. He shot Molly an annoyed look, which she decided to ignore in favor of following Sherlock's lead and just enjoying the drama he'd created. "Which this woman is not."

"You don't know that," Sherlock countered. "We could have been secretly married all this time, or got married on our way here after getting a special license."

Mycroft waved those possibilities away with a scowl. "If you'd been actually married this whole time you never would have gone along with the fake wife we made up for you - because one day you'd have to actually produce such a woman and, although she meets the physical criteria, I doubt very much that Miss - what is your surname, again?" he interrupted himself to ask Molly.

"Oh, it's still Hooper," she said. "Since I've published under my own name, Sherlock insisted I keep it."

"Although," Sherlock interjected, leaning forward a bit, "in future we might consider hyphenating." He gave her another one of those syrupy smiles. "Isn't that true, diddums."

"Absolutely, Pookie," she responded, enjoying herself far more than ought to be legal.

The grin Sherlock directed at Mycroft could only be described as malicious. "Care to guess what topic those papers covered, Mykie? Shall I give you a hint?"

Eurus, who had been completely silent during this entire exchange, suddenly spoke up. "No wonder you never tried to rein us in, no matter how ridiculous we got in describing your supposed wife; you had this woman in mind the entire time. Didn't you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sherlock bit off, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

"You know, I do believe you're right," Mycroft replied. Suddenly his entire attention was focused on Molly, making her feel uncomfortably like a specimen under a microscope as his gaze flicked over her from head to toe. "Hm, forensic, intelligent - despite her willingness to go along with this charade - obviously petite, probably very forgiving and of course she would have to be a paragon of virtue to put up with Sherlock for, hmm, the past ten - no, eleven - months."

"Mycroft," Sherlock growled warningly, but his elder brother ignored him as he once again gave Molly the once-over.

"I suppose it's possible she's the sex addict you claimed her to be at Easter, Eurus - oh wasn't that a fun day! - but we'll leave that to Sherlock to discover when they actually come to the point of engaging in sexual relations."

"I would have given them two weeks, except now it'll either never happen or they'll be shagging like rabbits as soon as they return to London," Eurus pronounced while Molly gaped at them and Sherlock sputtered by her side, his face a rather dangerous looking shade of red. Eurus bestowed a pitying look upon Molly. "He's ready, but it's clear you're still laboring under the delusion that this is all just a lark to get back at us and keep Mum and Dad happy."

Okay, not so fun anymore. Molly shifted uncomfortably in her seat, opened her mouth to say something - to refute their conclusions, to try and ease the sudden tension, to crack a really bad joke, maybe - when Sherlock's mum appeared in the doorway, wearing a frilly white pinny and brandishing a ladle. "Supper's on! Everyone into the dining room! Your father's just pouring the wine."

Shooting his brother and sister a look that said 'this isn't over', Sherlock rose obediently to his feet. He took Molly's hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm, steadfastly ignoring his grinning siblings as he led her out of the sitting room.

For her part, Molly doubted she'd be able to choke down a single bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this, an update? It must be a Blue Moon. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I have a bit of a start on the next (and final chapter), so hopefully it won't be quite as long in between this time. Many thanks to Mychakk for checking it over for me!


	3. A Family Dinner For The Record Books

Despite the delicious feast spread out before them, Molly's prediction turned out to be correct. After sharing the carefully edited version of How She And Sherlock Met, Where They Spent Their Honeymoon and her career and other such details as he'd (correctly) predicted would come up, Violet's eagle eyes zeroed in on the fact that Molly was basically only pushing her food around on her plate rather than eating anything. "My dear, are you unwell?"

"Just a faint touch of...something," Molly replied with a too-bright smile. "I think the drive here must have unsettled my stomach a bit."

Whoopes, big mistake! Violet's eyes lit up and her next few comments made it clear that she was hoping that Molly's 'delicate stomach' was actually code for 'delicate condition, i.e. the next generation of Holmes' was on its way in nine months' time, give or take a few weeks'.

Thank God Sherlock had mentioned that his mother might bring up the subject of children, as it allowed Molly to respond without actually spluttering incoherently. She could just see Mycroft and Eurus chortling over any discombobulation she might show, and that was absolutely not to be borne. "No, not expecting, we've only barely been married, and now meeting you all - it'll be some time before I think either of us is ready to talk about having children," she said with what she hoped was a kind but firm smile indicating the subject was closed.

No such luck, drat it. "Oh, but my dear, you aren't either of you getting any younger, and now that you're set in your career - so exciting to be the youngest Specialist Registrar at the hospital! - surely it's best not to put such things off too long," Violet replied, patting Molly's hand and adroitly moving her wine glass aside at the same time. Just in case, Molly presumed, she was wrong about her not-so-interesting condition.

"Mother, please," Sherlock interjected, placing a protective arm around Molly's shoulder, which made her stomach do a few more-flips even though she was immensely grateful he wasn't leaving her twisting in the wind of Hurricane Mummy. "As Molly said, we've barely gotten to know one another, let it be."

"Hardly gotten to know one another?" Violet scoffed. "After all that time you've spent keeping Molly to yourself and not even coming home for family dinners over the past year? Please, darling, I should think you've gotten to know one another quite well! Certainly well enough to share all those fascinating details with Mykie and Euri!" She turned her stern gaze on all three of her children. "Why, if they're to be believed you spend all your free time either in bed together or hatching up forensic pathology experiments in her lab!"

"Why yes, Sherlock, you have indicated that to us more than once," Eurus said, turning a bland look on her decidedly uncomfortable looking older brother. "I have to admit, I never expected you to fall for a sex addict, not really your type."

"Yes," Mycroft put in while Sherlock slowly turned a rather garish shade of pink, "as I recall it wasn't that long ago that sex rather alarmed you."

"Hmm, yes, Jimmy called you the Virgin behind your back," Eurus said, her tone turning a bit spiteful, and that was when Molly decided she'd had enough; it was definitely time for her to return the favor and come to Sherlock's rescue.

"Now, Euri, Mykie, stop teasing your poor brother!" she said sternly. "Sex doesn't have to alarm him for him to know it's not really an appropriate subject for the dinner table!" Some devil made her give Sherlock what she hoped was an adequately smouldering look and add, "No matter how wonderful it might be!"

He stared right back down at her, his own gaze darkening a bit in a manner that made her cheeks - and parts south - tingle a bit with a growing heat. "Yes," he rumbled, his voice in the low register that absolutely Did It for her, "no matter how wonderful."

Molly found herself unable to respond; the longer they held each other's gaze, the more it felt like the entire room - if not the entire world! - was fading away around them.

Was it possible that Sherlock might want...what she wanted?

Apparently so. "Right, then!" he said loudly, his pink flush spreading in a rather fetching manner from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, and down his throat and chest to at least where his top two buttons had been left undone. "This has been a lot of fun, but since Molly's not feeling well I think it's best we head back to London. Now." He stood up and offered her his hand, which she took without demur, still holding his gaze and wondering when, exactly, the air around her had become so...electric.

"But what about Christmas presents? We haven't even opened them yet!" Violet protested, but with a knowing glint in her eyes that showed just how not-unhappy she was about this sudden development.

"Let them be, dear, we can just pack them in the boot while Sherlock helps Molly with her coat," Siger offered, his smile gentle and warming. "I think we've allowed the children to torture one another enough for one day." The look he cast on Sherlock's siblings was quite a bit frostier, and to their credit it did seem to quell them a bit.

"Sorry, we did get a bit carried away," Eurus offered, while Mycroft gave a stiff nod of agreement. And then of course, she couldn't just leave it at that. "But having you here was lovely Molly, we're so pleased you're part of the family now! Surely you'll be able to join us more in future, yes?"

"That's entirely up to Sherlock," Molly replied, once again gazing up at her 'husband'. "If that's what he wants…"

"Yes," he said, taking her hands in his. "It is. I do."

"I do, too," Molly breathed, and then it was all a blur of saying good-byes and bundling up in coats and putting on wellies and being solicitously led to the car, which someone - Sherlock? - had already started so it would be warm when she was settled in her seat.

She managed to hang onto her manners long enough to wave goodbye and tell Sherlock's parents what a wonderful time she'd had (only partially a lie and only because of his brother and sister of course), but once he was in the car with the door shut and everyone was heading back inside, she lost every ounce of self-control she'd ever owned and found herself half-dragging him over the gear shift for a full on, proper snog in which he participated with a great deal of enthusiasm.

Breathless, gasping, they pulled apart. "Hotel nearby?" Molly asked.

"The Crab and Lobster in Sidlesham, owner owes me a favor, he'll have a room even on Christmas night," Sherlock replied, whipping out his mobile and rapidly tapping away on the screen. "There, done, it'll be ready when we get there, are you sure about this, Molly? You've met my family, you've met ME, are you really sure you want-"

"Yes," she replied, silencing his sudden nervous babble with another kiss - a slower, softer one this time. "Yes I am. Are you?"

"God yes," he said fervently, then the car was in gear and they were off.

**oOo**

"Goodness they do seem to be taking their time about actually leaving," Violet said with more than a bit of complacency as she and Siger stood in the doorway waiting for Sherlock's (rented? borrowed? stolen?) Jag to pull out of the drive. "I do hope poor Molly is feeling well enough to travel."

Her husband peered doubtfully into the darkness. "Should we tap on the window, d'you think? Ask them if they'd rather spend the night?"

"And put them up in Sherlock's old bedroom with his brother and sister - not to mention his parents! - just down the hall? Don't be silly, dear! No one wants their first time together to happen under those circumstances!"

"First time?" Siger echoed, brow scrunched in confusion. "But they've been married for - oh." Violet smiled as the penny dropped. "You were right about Mycroft and Eurus making up a wife for Sherlock. They're not actually married."

Violet patted his arm affectionately. "No, dear, they're not, but I predict it won't be long before they are - and with any luck it won't be much longer after that that we'll finally get those grandchildren we've been longing for!"

He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her close while they watched the Jag finally head down the drive at rather a smart clip. "Well, at least he found someone who matched that rather daunting list of characteristics Eurus and Mycroft dreamed up - and seems more than capable of holding her own in this mad family of ours!"

"Indeed she does," Violet said, giving her husband a quick peck on the lips while they still had some time to themselves. "Indeed she does."

And they headed back inside to spend the rest of Christmas night mercilessly teasing Mycroft and Eurus for inadvertently bringing Sherlock and Molly together - for real.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada, there you have it. There is a possibility I'll do a smutty one-shot to bring this stilly RomCom to a close. Many thanks to mychakk and vertual for looking it over for me and catching some teeny tiny yet stupid mistakes. You guys (and all my commenters!) totally rock!

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to theleftpill and mychakk for reading this over. Your suggestions were invaluable, and much appreciated!


End file.
